


Reactions

by xspike4evax



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike's determined to get a reaction from Willow other than the cold shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





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The cemetery was in darkness, the stars peeked through the trees like fairy lights and the dark clouds moved effortlessly above her, like a ballet in the sky. The night air was warm in spite of the fallen leaves and branches that crunched beneath her feet. 

Spike walked along beside her but they didn’t speak. As stupid as she knew it was Willow was still upset over his earlier comments on how she and Xander were useless losers and no help to Buffy at all. Deep down she knew it had been a blatant act of pure spite and viciousness on Spike’s behalf. He couldn’t hurt them the way he longed to because of the chip, any physical violence was off limits to him and that left words as the only weapon left in his arsenal. Spike used them with razor sharp preciseness. 

She tried not to take it too personally, she knew that Spike hadn’t set out that evening to hurt her and Xander. Anyone would have done for him really, it was just that she was the one who happened to feel the brunt of his frustration. For an instant tonight she had seen the Spike of last year standing in front of her as he had hurled his words like throwing –stars the street lights reflecting in his eyes, turning them to icy cold flames of malice. 

Spike’s jaw was clenched tightly and his hands balled into fists in the pocket of his duster. He was adept at teasing and bullying. He knew his target, knew what buttons to push to get a reaction and he generally knew what that reaction was going to be; he hadn’t expected Willow to react this way though, he had expected anger and tears not the cold shoulder. Spike didn’t much care for the cold shoulder. 

He wondered if she or the moron would tell the Slayer and he’d end up getting his arse royally kicked for upsetting them. What would he say should the Slayer or the Watcher demand an explanation for his words? He’d probably tell them to sod off, that he was evil and they shouldn’t expect anything else from him. It was partly the truth, he couldn’t tell them the whole truth even if he was so inclined to. 

What would he say, that he wanted to hurt the witch because she was nice to him, because she had seen him at his lowest? Even though he had threatened her and tried to kill her Willow still kept his secrets and told her friends only what was necessary and not every sordid detail of his moping about Dru and his inability to perform. She was sensitive to his feelings, and this very night she had been there for him again, she had talked him out of staking himself and refused to allow the moron to follow through on the offer to do it for him. 

Willow was nice to him and Spike found it completely unsettling. She was almost like a friend, except that she wasn’t. She was however, all he had in the world and wasn’t that depressing. A vampire such as he had only a little human to care what happened to him and she was his enemy. Sort of. Spike wasn’t quite sure any more what category Willow was to be placed in. 

He did know however that very slowly the witch had begun to take him over. Spike couldn’t stop hounding her, watching her; she became a point of obsession, he was fascinated by her. 

Willow hadn’t spoken to him since they had split off from the others and that was about five minutes ago by his recollection. Five minutes wasn’t all that long, not really, but the silence grated on Spike’s nerves. He hated being ignored and she was quite clearly ignoring him. 

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The light, twirling wind caught at her long hair, pulling at the deep red tresses, setting them to dance in the air. Suddenly those green eyes of hers found his and Spike shivered involuntarily; they were hard, broken eyes that looked back at him. He had done that, he had exposed a chink in her armor, found and exploited her weakness; but he discovered that he wasn’t proud of it. 

She seemed so very real to Spike in that moment, she was usually so very far away from him, in a world of goodness and light that fought against his world of darkness and shadows. 

“What?” She sounded weary. 

“Nothin’,” Spike said, and it surprised him that he spoke the truth. 

Willow nodded slowly. “I suppose an apology is asking too much of you. You had your fun, didn’t you, Spike? It doesn’t matter to you who you hurt in the process.” 

“That’s right,” Spike rallied his defenses and went for bravado. It would never do for her to think she had got to him, because she had; those eyes had. 

She nodded again as though she had expected him to answer in such a manner. “All I’ve ever done is try to help you and you go and be mean to me for no reason. What you said tonight was cruel and… and it wasn’t true. Xander and I are a big help to Buffy and nothing you can say will change that. I know you’re evil and your frustrated what with the chip and everything but…but that doesn’t mean you can take it out on me. I thought there was more to you than just the general “I’m evil” thing but I guess I was wrong. We don’t have to help you, but we do and you don’t show any kind of appreciation at all. I mean, you don’t have to go Bronzing with us or be best friends with us or anything, but you could perhaps not insult us every chance you get. Why do you have to be so horrible all the time?” 

Spike frowned as a feeling very much like guilt uncurled itself in his chest like a lazy serpent. Spike didn’t much like the feeling. 

Silence followed her little speech while Spike tried to find the right words to respond. Just why he wanted to respond he didn’t know, but he didn’t like himself through Willow’s eyes and it was suddenly very important to him that he change the way she saw him. 

A thrush swooped down and landed on a bare branch above Spike’s head, it let out one shrill note and then fell silent, a warbling solo for the nighttime melody. A moment later another note rang out from deeper in the cemetery and the thrush answered the call by disappearing into the trees. 

Oh yes, he’d noticed all that in an effort not to notice Willow. She had stopped walking and was staring at him reproachfully; waiting. Spike didn’t know what answer to give her; he didn’t know how to make her change her opinion of him or why it was suddenly so damn important that she did. 

“Would it make you feel better if I said I was sorry?” It came out as a put upon demand, but there was nothing he could do to take it back just as there was nothing he could do to take back his earlier words. 

“I don’t think you should apologize unless you mean it. Not just you, anybody, and you won’t mean it,” she added. 

“Then what the hell do you want from me?” Spike’s patience was running thin; she was so damned infuriating. He had no weapons to use against her calm voice of reason and her eyes that still accused him and would not absolve him. 

“Nothing.” 

It was said simply and honestly and Spike didn’t like hearing it at all. 

She shifted a little and the neckline of the jumper she was wearing, not the fuzzy pink jumper with the lilac underneath, fell down her arm, exposing a smooth, pale, rounded shoulder. Spike was suddenly transfixed; he couldn’t tear his eyes way and they followed the line of her shoulder up her neck, across her jaw bone to her lips. They continued their wandering; mentally tracing the outline of those lips that had not spoken heated words of hate or even dislike, but had cut him to the quick with cool, honesty instead. He should appreciate that about her, the ability to wound with the truth, but she hadn’t meant it the way he would have. She wasn’t using the truth to hurt him but simply get her point across. 

“Where are you goin’?” Spike reached out to stop her as she made to walk past him. 

“Back to Giles’. We’ve been through the cemetery and there’s nothing here. No vampires, no demons. I was going to go back, aren’t you coming?” 

“Hum.” Spike wasn’t really listening to her, he was busy watching his hand moving of its own accord towards her shoulder. His hand had to be moving of its own accord, surely to God he had not sent the message to his brain to touch her bare skin and see if it felt as soft as it looked. 

Oh it did. Her skin was smooth as silk and Spike revelled in it. 

Willow gasped and Spike was aware that he had brought out another reaction from her. This one was more to his liking than the cold shoulder and cool truth. 

His finger moved of its own accord, again it had to be of its own accord because Spike again didn’t remember sending the message that his finger was to physically follow the route his eyes had taken only moments before. 

Willow shivered, another reaction to Spike’s liking. 

Her lips parted in another gasp when is finger traced the outline of her lips. The tip of his finger touched to her lower lip and it was his turn to gasp when Willow’s tongue flickered against it. 

Spike didn’t think, he didn’t pause, he didn’t hesitate; he grasped Willow’s shoulders and hauled her against him. His mouth swooped down on hers, crushing her lips beneath his like rose petals. 

Willow was so shocked by this turn of events that she acted on instinct rather than common sense and her arms flew around his neck as she opened her mouth to him, inviting him in. 

Another reaction that was very much to Spike’s liking. 

Her fingers weaved their way into his hair, holding him to her as she kissed him back heatedly her body molding itself to his. She moaned against his mouth and Spike’s arms tightened around her, his hands sliding down her back to cup her behind and pull her more firmly into the cradle of his hips. 

Willow pressed against the hard ridge of his arousal making him groan and push her backwards until she hit the thick trunk of a tree behind her. She gasped when his mouth left hers to press an open mouth kiss at the place where her neck met her shoulder. 

He hadn’t known that the witch could be such a temptation, but she was; Spike wanted her, he wanted her so bloody much that he could hardly think straight. 

His hands dropped to the button on her trousers, this time it was not of their own accord, Spike vividly remembered sending the message to his brain to do it. His palm grazed her stomach as his hand made its way down the front of her knickers, brushing against the soft, downy hair at the apex of her thighs, finding a pleasurable warm wetness he was not yet expecting. 

Willow trembled when she felt Spike’s hand slide between her legs, parting her, fingers sliding inside her. She moaned at the new feeling of pleasure, pushing herself against his hand while her own hands made their way to the button on his jeans, she was suddenly consumed with the need to touch him back.   
Spike groaned with relief when she released him, his jeans had become unbearably tight and restrictive. Her fingers trailed over him slowly before she curled her hand around him and stroked him gently, gingerly. 

“Harder,” he rasped against her throat. 

She was willing to comply, more than happy to be guided by him and she tried to match the same rhythm he had set against her but her hand faltered when Spike broke his stride to curl his fingers inside her and make her gasp and shudder with delight. 

His free hand tangled in her hair and Spike pulled her head back so that he could look into her face. “Please,” he begged, his voice thick and hoarse with suppressed desire. “Please, pet.” 

He had to have her; Spike simply had to be inside her. 

It wasn’t necessary for Spike to specify what he wanted from her, Willow knew and she wanted him too. She didn’t pause to think about it or analyze it, she wanted to take what Spike wanted to give.   
“Yes,” she breathed against his mouth. “Please, Spike.” 

The movement of his fingers stopped, both his hands left her body to grip the waistband of her trousers and underwear and push them down around her knees. Willow wiggled with the movement, her trousers slipping further down her legs. 

He was kissing her again, hard and deep. He wrenched his mouth from hers, realising that he couldn’t lift her as he had planned, her trousers wouldn’t allow it. 

Quickly he spun her so that she faced the tree, desperate to be inside her. Willow grasped the tree trunk her body humming with excitement as Spike kneed her legs a little further apart, pulling her hips back slightly at a better angle, his erection probing at her, making her push back, searching for him.   
Holding her hips firmly in place Spike pushed between her legs and Willow cried out as he penetrated her body with a hard, fluid stroke. The feeling of her engulfing him caused Spike to lose his mind and his hips became a driving force. 

Spike’s strokes deepened and Willow moved her legs as far apart as the restrictive clothing around her ankles allowed her to. A fierce fire erupted between her legs as Spike’s momentum carried her away, her body burning and loud moans filling the dark corner of the cemetery. 

Spike’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms cording and his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. It was hard and it was fast; each stroke he gave her had a purpose, hit something inside her that made Willow whimper and moan and Spike growled low in his throat in response 

She cried out with uninhibited pleasure as something snapped inside her when her body found its release, her muscles pulling greedily at him, making Spike groan and throb and twitch inside her, his eyes closing to better savor the moment. 

And then it was done. 

Willow sank against the tree as Spike sagged against her, his body trembling with the intensity of his climax. Willow could hardly believe what she had done, couldn’t understand why she had done it; although she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it, not when she felt this good. 

Spike couldn’t comprehend what had happened; he could scarcely get his head around the fact that he and the witch had shagged against a tree in the cemetery. He didn’t pretend to understand what had driven her to allow him to touch her, be with her, lose himself in her so completely. And yet she had allowed it, the proof was there, right in front of him, he was still inside her warm, wet body. 

“Good God, Spike,” Willow whispered breathless. 

Spike smirked, he had wanted to break through the cold shoulder and he had, this reaction was definitely more to his liking.


End file.
